A Nobody's Story
by Ningan the Lone Ninja
Summary: This is basically the equivalent to 'Behind the Bandana', but told through the eyes of another character, Lamatte the Gold Knight. After confessing his own origins, Lamatte realises how lucky he truly is, and finds himself healed from the weight of poverty and depression.


"_Your friends... What kind of... people are they? I wonder... Do these people... think of you... as a friend?_"

-The Moon Child wearing Odolwa's Mask.

The bartender chimed the bell, which was the cue for the customers to depart. Ningan leapt from the seat and strolled calmly towards the stairs. Wickson stared for a while then slid slowly of his own seat.

"I'm due to visit Zora Hall tomorrow." he piped, hoping that Ningan would hear. "To meet the Indigo-gos in person. I'm a journalist by the way. I guess you'll be too busy to join me?"

"My job is not one of time limits." Ningan smiled. "I would be delighted to join you."

"Then it's settled. 11 o'clock I'll meet you in the Western Square. Which room are you staying in?"

"I haven't actually booked a room." he sighed, and opened the door. Wickson chased him out into midnight. Ningan continued to stroll across the Eastern Square.

"So where will you go?"

"Oh, I'll find somewhere nearby. After all, this is a lively town." Ningan reached in his trusty satchel and snatched out a sleeping bag. "I'm already prepared." he winked.

Wickson laughed as he pulled the door open to enter the inn. He saw the constellation Sagittarius faintly glittering above the crescent moon and closed the door with satisfaction. He strolled past the empty reception desk and proceeded upstairs to the room. However, before he could insert his room key, he heard crying coming from behind him.

Crouched in front of the door to the Knife Chamber was a man wearing a plain grey tunic, sobbing. The man did not seem to notice Wickson's presence, and Wickson was unsure whether to approach him or not. Eventually, he bent over the man and pressed his hand upon his back gently. "Hey! What's up, guy?"

The man looked up. He had crystal blue eyes that were stained with red from the endless tears streaming down his face. His hair was messy and outrageous, as well as his beard. He glared at Wickson and Wickson stared back.

"Everything." he sobbed. "My entire life is a mess."

"Don't say that!" Wickson replied. Although he was in a perfectly good mood, he was exhausted and needed to rest. Dealing with this washed up tramp was the last thing he needed so late at night. "What's your name?"

The man forced himself to stand up from the dusty wooden floor. He brushed his clothes down and held out his hand politely, despite it being soaked with tears. "Lamatte." he sniffed. "Commanding Knight of the Royal Hylian Forces."

Wickson recognised the name from somewhere recent, but could not remember. The man smiled proudly upon mentioning his title, but Wickson couldn't see just how a 'Commanding Knight' could become such a mess. He retained his comforting tone and returned the smile: "My name is Wickson-" he began, but then remembered Ningan's reaction when he had introduced himself. "-but enough about me. Shall we go into your room and talk?"

Lamatte's eyes suddenly began to water again. "I don't have a room any more." he explained. "I sold my room key to a Goron so I could buy a lottery ticket."

Wickson sighed but still managed to smile. "Do you want to come into my room? There's a table where we could play cards or something."

"I would love to come into your room." the Knight nodded. "But you really shouldn't let me near your cards. I'm not good at card games." His mind seemed to drift away to another unspoken place. Wickson fumbled around for his key once more and inserted it into the door. He waited for Lamatte to enter before closing the door gently behind him.

The room was dim and damp, but enough to sustain a whole group of people, with two bunk beds and a table in the centre. It was the only room available, but Wickson could certainly afford it. If Ningan had listened a little more to his story, he would have discovered that Wickson was in fact from a very wealthy family who lived on their own private island off the coast of Quazar. But Wickson kicked himself for not inviting Ningan to join him in this spacious room. After all, he didn't seem to have a place of his own. But then again, they would see each other again at the Carnival of Time.

Wickson indicated the table to Lamatte, who sat down on one of the cheap wooden chairs. Wickson then ignited a nearby lantern to illuminate the room, but Lamatte shielded his eyes. "So tell me," he began as he sat down opposite the stranger. "How did you end up here in Clock Town?"

"Oh, it's a long, boring story," he said. "Why should I bother telling you?"

"Because I have nothing better to do." Wickson lied. It was the day of the Carnival. He was meant to be interviewing the Indigo-Gos in Zora Hall. But here, he pitied the poor, depressed loner, and maybe he could find a room mate.

"Well, I could start from the beginning. That's always a good place to start, so I hear." his humour was dry but Wickson was tired. "I was born and raised in Hyrule. Do you know where that is?"

"I've heard a little about it..." he replied: already he was imagining a story very similar to that of Ningan's...wait a moment...wasn't this the same Lamatte whom Ningan had mentioned at the very end of his story? A bold, brave knight in golden armour? Wickson gazed over at the exhausted loner, who wore nothing more than a dirty grey tunic. Surely not...

The carpenter stood at the door of the house. In his hands, he held nothing but a tin toolbox, which was slowly beginning to rust. His wife was also standing at the door, but on the inside. She shook her head with disgust at her husband.

"You've got your stuff, now leave." she snarled. "And you can take this cheap bit of rubbish." She chucked him a small golden ring, which bounced onto the stone floor of the Back Alleys. "I had it checked, and it's made of brass."

The carpenter picked up the ring and placed it into his pocket. He sniffed as he turned away from his home. His wife watched him slip away, until he looked back. "Keep walking, Shiro." she said coldly. But her husband stayed standing.

"Just answer me this, Katherine;" Shiro said. "Is there somebody else?"

The woman cackled so that her voice echoed through the darkened streets. "Of course there's somebody else! You don't think I'd just divorce you and raise a child on my own!"

With that, Katherine closed the door, leaving Shiro to depart from Castle Town alone and pursue his job.

Inside, however, his wife grabbed a suitcase from inside a wardrobe and began to pack all of her clothes inside. A young child emerged from his bedroom, yawned loudly and approached his mother.

"Mother, why are you packing?" he asked innocently. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Yes, Lamatte," she smiled. "We're going to a better life."

Once all her clothes were packed, Katherine shut the suitcase. Lamatte's eyes scanned the room and then gazed at his mother curiously. "Where's father?"

"Oh, father's gone to work, darling." Katherine replied, and gave Lamatte a backpack that was almost twice his size. "But he's not coming with us. So hurry up and pack, and then we can move into our new house."

"A new house?!" Lamatte's crystal blue eyes shone and he grabbed his only clothes: a grey tunic, a leather belt and a pair of leather boots.

His mother opened the door and carried her suitcase. "Come on, Lamatte!" Her son followed behind, heaving the backpack onto his shoulders, and found it quite heavy, considering he was just 8 years old. Katherine closed the door and together, they marched out of the Back Alleys, into the silent market square and up a flight of wooden stairs.

At the top, there was just one glass door, which had a golden plaque beside it: _Count W. Faux, Ceramics Businessman_. Katherine rapped on the door excitedly, and waited. Through the glass, Lamatte could see a small, stout figure wearing a royal blue. When the door opened, a gentleman with a chestnut brown mustache greeted them.

"Katherine, I'm so glad you came!" he grinned, bearing many yellow teeth. "You've made the right choice." He glanced down at her son and grinned. "A son! Excellent! He looks like just the boy I could train in the Pottery Trade!"

He invited both of them over the threshold. When the strange gentleman closed the door and asked them to proceed, Lamatte was astounded. He had entered a grand lounge with royal blue furniture and a bookshelf housing many leather spines. Ahead of him was another glass door which appeared to lead to a balcony, which overlooked the town.

He leaned over to his delighted mother and asked his most pressing question: "Mother, what is the 'Pottery Trade'?" She smiled and ruffled his already messy hair. "Not now, darling. It's bedtime for you."

"From that point on, my life changed completely. I had to adapt to my new stepfather, who wasn't the best father at all. I was forbidden to question what happened to my true father, but I knew that I would eventually find out. All through my childhood, I was pressured into education, so I could enter Count Faux's Pottery Trade."

Lamatte sat at a varnished desk, with a crisp piece of parchment and a royal blue quill placed before him, along with a full jar of ink. Count Walter Faux stood over him, holding an hourglass in his left hand. He turned it over and placed it on the desk, right before his stepson's eyes. "Your time starts now."

Lamatte picked up the paper and read the first question: _Where is the furthest that the Pottery Trade business has expanded?_ He thought hard about his answer before dipping his quill into the ink. He wrote the furthest corner of Hyrule that he knew of: _Gerudo Valley_. The next question: _If I bought 200 pots for 5 Rupees each and sold them at a 50% increase, how much profit will I make? _Lamatte absolutely despised arithmetic questions, so skipped to the next: _Who was the first businessman to achieve the sale of pottery to the Royal Family of Hyrule?_ Well, that was obvious, he thought, and wrote _Count Walter Faux_. At least he had got one correct.

Soon, the sand in the hourglass slipped all the way to the bottom and Lamatte's time was up. Count Walter Faux grabbed the hourglass and snatched the parchment. Scanning the page, he quickly marked the paper with the quill and slammed it down onto the table.

"Failure," he declared. "Again. Lamatte, how do you expect to become my apprentice when you answer a question with 'A lot'?"

"What if I don't want to work in the Pottery Trade." his stepson answered boldly.

The count's head spun round so quickly, it nearly hit him. "Of course you will work for me!" he bellowed. "I have kindly donated my food, my money and my home to you and your mother! You will therefore repay your debt with your labour!"

"I never wanted to work for your stupid business!" Lamatte shouted. "The Pottery Trade is a load of boring crap, and I want nothing to do with it."

His stepfather's fist clenched, screwing up the parchment. His face fumed and his teeth gritted. "Get out. Get out of my house."

"Gladly." Lamatte groaned and stood up from his chair.

"I suggest you pack your stuff," Count Faux added. "Because you're not coming back."

Lamatte exploded with rage. "You can't banish me from here! This is my home! All my stuff is here, including my mother!"

"What's going on?" asked an annoyed voice from the hallway. Katherine Faux had left the kitchen to come and watch the show. She looked extremely displeased.

"Your son has failed his test again, and now he announces that he refuses the opportunity of a great career! So I told him straight; if he's not my apprentice, he's not my son, and is therefore not entitled to any of my hard-earned possessions. He can pack his bag and leave."

"Mother, I can't leave home!" Lamatte protested. "I'm only 12!"

Katherine looked back and forth between the two men and sighed. "Lamatte, you must work for your father. He has done great things for us both. I want a great career for you too. Please, take this opportunity before it's too late."

Her son stood and shook his head. "I can't. I want to do greater things with my life. I don't want to end up selling pots in a market stall for the rest of my life."

"Then you must leave." she said. Lamatte was horrified-how could his own mother deny him a home? He stormed past her and went to his bedroom. There was the backpack he had used 4 years ago with less than 4 possessions. Now, he packed it with his many tunics of different colours, his childhood toys, including a wooden sword, and his wallet, which contained some Rupees he had been collecting over the years.

Lamatte buckled the backpack and swung it over his shoulder. It felt a lot lighter. He entered the lounge again to retrieve the parchment and the ink, but was halted by his stepfather.

"You will not take my hard earned possessions with you." he growled. "You won't need paper where you're going anyway."

"You don't know where I'm going!" Lamatte scoffed, and went to snatch the paper. Suddenly, a fist came flying towards him and his view went black. When his eyes reopened, he felt a rushing pain explode from his nose. He placed his hand against it to find a trickle of blood flowing onto his lip.

"How do you like that?" the Count cackled, and took the paper from his reach. Lamatte gazed over at his mother. Her mouth was gaping but no sound came out. His nose was throbbing. Instinctively, he grabbed the bottle of ink before it was snatched away and strolled towards the dining room.

"Where are you going?" he mother asked anxiously, but she couldn't stop him. He saw the golden candlestick standing peacefully on the clothed table, and gripped it with his clenched fist. He saw his stepfather, cackling still like the Devil himself. He swung the candlestick with all his might.

Count Walter Faux hit the carpet with a gentle thud. There was a deadly silence. Lamatte dropped the candlestick carelessly and leant down to admire his work. He caught sight of the glittering diamond on his stepfather's finger. He won't be needing that any more.

Lamatte quickly swiped the wedding ring, and proceeded to the front door. His mother was still standing at the entrance to lounge, and did not appear to know anything. "I'm leaving." he said, and kissed her on the cheek, before opening the shining glass door. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you." Lamatte left his mother to ponder what he had just said and closed the door behind him. The sun bathed the Market Square in a dazzling light. Life could not be better. This was a new beginning. This was a new adventure.

"Wait a moment...you murdered your stepfather?"

Lamatte smiled between sniffling. "Yes. I don't regret it either. That man was a bastard."

Wickson was not going to object, but he was incredibly wary that he was sitting opposite a murderer. "Did you ever get caught?" he asked.

"No," sighed Lamatte. "I escaped the law, but I'm no ninja." The reference was obvious: possibly a trap for the ninja's whereabouts to slip out. Wickson was still refusing to let on, and continued to listen to the story.

"After I left home, I ventured into the wilds of Hyrule Field, in order to search for my father. My first thought was of course the village of Kakariko, as places for construction are rare in the kingdom of Hyrule. So I travelled to the village of the poor and sure enough, my dreams came true."

"Father?" the young boy called. He stood beside a lone tree on the village green, watching a man wandering near the windmill. Lamatte dashed to see the man who had been missing to him for so long, but the man seemed to pass him by.

"_Father_?!" The man turned once again, and then stopped at the sight of his son. "Lamatte? Is that you?" For a while, they both stared at one another. "My, my, you've grown so tall." said the carpenter.

So many questions were orbiting Lamatte's mind, buzzing like hornets waiting to sting. But he didn't care. The truth hurts. "Why did you go, Father?" he asked.

Shiro sighed. "It was your mother," he confessed. "She was seeing Count Faux for many months before I left. Then finally, she kicked me out. I was alone, without a home. I had no choice but to move here for work." He saw the tear in his son's eye, which was instantly wiped away. "I'm sorry, son. I really wanted to stay with you. But I'm sure you've had a better life with your mother?"

Lamatte shook his head. "I hate him. I hate the Count. He was no father that could replace you." Again, the tear slipped through his eyelid. "That is why I have come to find you. I want to live with you, Father."

"Of course, my Father looked horrified at the time, but I could not see why. I was his only son. I needed him, and he needed me. We could be a team. Despite his worries, I eventually convinced him to let me stay in the lady's house he was renting. From there, I worked with my father in the construction business, become his boss's apprentice. It was hard work, and I had to prove myself."

The next morning, Mutoh and his carpenters gathered at the site of construction in the centre of the village. Lamatte stood shyly before all five of them. Mutoh's slanted eyes looked down upon him. He turned to Ichiro on his right, and muttered; "This youngster looks even weaker than his dad." and Ichiro laughed earnestly.

"Okay, kid, listen up!" Mutoh called. Lamatte gazed hopefully at his father. Shiro smiled weakly. "We're gonna give you a mission, and you are to complete it before sunset."

Lamatte glanced skyward at the risen sun and smiled smugly. "What's my mission?" he asked with confidence.

"Your mission," Mutoh grinned malevolently. "Is to climb Death Mountain and compromise with the Goron tribe."

There was a short gasp from the team of carpenters, and then an interruption from Jiro: "Boss, you can't! He's just a kid! Those Gorons will hammer him!"

"Shut it, Jiro! I'm sure that, being the son of one of our most advanced carpenters, this kid can take on anything." He grinned again.

"But Boss, why is he even going up there?" asked Ichiro.

"Because our buildings supplies are low and we need to fetch more stone from Dodongo's Cavern to build with." explained Sabooro.

Lamatte's smile had long faded and he looked to his father for support. Shiro stood with his eyes shut nodding his head. There was no other way. If he wanted to support him and his father, and pay the rent, this was something inevitable.

Lamatte observed the swirling cloud atop the ominous mountain of fire. The Goron tribe were not to be messed with-he had learnt that during his education in the Pottery Trade-_If you need materials, you'll need to drive a bargain_. Lamatte remembered the words of his stepfather and shuddered.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" sneered Mutoh. "You've got til sunset!"

"It was certainly going to be a difficult task," Lamatte explained. "But fortunately, the carpenters were very supportive. Once I was out of Mutoh's view, they gladly offered advice to me."

Sabooro approached Lamatte as he stood nervously at the mountain gate. Lamatte sighted him but kept still, hoping not to appear as afraid as he felt.

"Hey kid," Sabooro said. "I thought I could give you something to help you out." Lamatte looked over his shoulder and saw Sabooro pull something from his pocket. He recognised it instantly.

"Have you ever played bowling down at Castle Town?" the carpenter asked kindly. "Well the Gorons love these things."

It was a small machine the size of Sabooro's hand. It had a blue front which resembled that of a mouse, along with yellow eyes and whiskers. Bomchus, Lamatte thought, just like in the Bowling Alley. It was illegal to take them outside of the building, so he had never truly seen one in action.

"Take them up the mountain and use them in anyway possible." he explained. "But beware-they're highly explosive, and sometimes uncontrollable."

Lamatte was about to thank the carpenter when Jiro came running up the path. "I also have something to give you!" he panted. "Here's a little advice; Gorons honour respect. Treat them as you would like to be treated."

Then, both Ichiro and Shiro came to join the others. Lamatte first looked to his father, but Ichiro spoke first. "The Gorons don't just honour respect." he interrupted. "They honour strength. Do whatever it takes to gain permission to enter their mine, even if you have to wrestle them."

"Wrestle them?!" Jiro frowned.

Ichiro nodded. "Yes, Wrestling is a common Goron sport. They prove each other's strength in the ring. Although I doubt the opportunity would ever come, be prepared."

Shiro then stepped forward and placed his hand upon his son's shoulder. "I don't have much to offer you but the best of luck." he sighed. "I actually doubt that you'll survive for trespassing upon the tribe's grounds, but I do hope that you get back to us alive."

With those words of encouragement. The carpenters left Lamatte standing before the gate. Lamatte tried to wave goodbye to his father, but Shiro did not look back. So Lamatte had no choice but to face the treacherous mountain trail alone.

"On and on I ascended Death Mountain." Lamatte continued. "I was conscious of the sun's journey above my head, as the wind grew stronger and bit my cheeks. Eventually, I did arrive at Goron City, the settlement of Hyrulean Gorons."

Upon his entrance, Lamatte was filled with warmth, despite wearing just a tunic. It was as though he had entered some sort of Hot Spring, a haven on relaxation. Looking around, he saw a Goron rolling continuously along a track, and a giant clay pot in the centre. Pots. Was there any escape?

Lamatte cautiously ventured further, and was confronted by his first Goron: a tall, tough creature with stronger armour than a soldier. Despite its heavy appearance, the Goron looked at him with kind blue eyes.

"Hello, kid." it greeted him gently. "Where do you come from to climb all the way up this mountain?"

"I'm here on an errand from my boss." Lamatte answered, bravely. "I need permission to use your mine."

"Oh really?" the Goron frowned. Being currently unemployed, this was a lie, but was the Goron going to question it? "You look a little young for a job, but you'd better talk to Darunia."

"Darunia?"

"Oh yes, he's the leader of our tribe. He deals with all the business negotiations here. You'll find him on the ground floor. But don't annoy him-he seems in a pretty good mood since the mine reopened."

Lamatte thanked the Goron politely and descended the nearest stairs to the ground floor. He appeared before the giant pot. Here, he noticed that the pot actually had Goron faces carved into the top; one happy, one sad, and one angry. He hoped that he would not see Darunia's angry face.

Ahead of him, he saw a door leading to a shop, and a door with a neat woven rug before it, and a Goron guarding it. Presuming that this was indeed the Throne Room, Lamatte approached the Goron. "I'm here to speak to Darunia." he explained.

The Goron eyed him warily, but then nodded. "I see. Go ahead and enter, but remember to pay the utmost respect. The Goron Guard stamped his stone foot upon the rug, and Lamatte watched in amazement as the door slowly rose upwards. Checking that his boots were clean, he reluctantly entered.

The entrance to the throne room was dimly lit by a few torches. They watched him pass by, and flickered to each other. He ignored them and continued. That's when he saw him. Darunia, the leader of the Gorons, was standing tall and proud like a pillar in the torchlight. He did not appear to notice Lamatte's presence at first, until the young man approached him closer. He looked down upon him, but not with hatred; with curiosity.

"Can I help you, young man?" he asked. His voice was like gravel, and made Lamatte feel scalded and unwanted, just as his stepfather had spoken to him. He swallowed his dry throat and answered:

"Are you Darunia?" The reply was foolish and childish, but Darunia didn't expect anything less. He sighed and replied: "Yes, I am Darunia, leader of the Goron Tribe. And just how can I help a Hylian boy like you?"

"I...we need access to...your mine." the words fell out of his mouth like uncontrollable boulders.

Darunia frowned and glared at him. "And why would somebody as young as you need to enter our mine?"

"Well, sir, I am the servant of a group of carpenters. They require certain rocks to build with, and those rocks can only be found in your mine."

"So why did these carpenters not join you as you ascended the deadly mountain trail, and not accompany you when you confronted the leader of the Goron tribe?"

Lamatte stopped. The realisation overwhelmed him. He, a 12 year old boy, had been dispatched to climb Death Mountain and face the Gorons alone, while the four carpenters whom he was serving were cosy and warm in the village drinking milk. He had been used, treated like nothing but a slave...treated just as his father had treated him. Darunia had seen right through him, and his earth brown eyes softened.

"You have come far, young Hylian, and you have faced challenges I have only seen one other like you accomplish. I will grant you permission to enter our mines, but on one condition: you must confront your own boss, and bring him to me. He is foolish to send someone as young as you to such a place, and should be punished. Bring him to me, leader of the Gorons. You have until sunset."

"It seemed like a reasonable request, considering he had allowed us into his mine. I returned to Kakariko Village, pleased with what I had achieved, and went to confront Mutoh. I told him that Darunia wanted to speak to him in person, to certify the contract. He accepted, but dragged me back up the mountain once more. When I returned to the Throne Room, Darunia was waiting in the Wrestling Ring, surrounded by the rest of the tribe. I can tell you, it wasn't a pretty sight."

Lamatte laughed. His tears had dried and his cheeks were coloured once more. Wickson smiled and yawned.

"From then on, the carpenters mined stone freely within the Goron Mines. Mutoh never spoke of the incident with Darunia ever again whilst he was recovering from his bruises. I trusted Darunia, and occasionally went to visit him. He treated me like the son he had always wanted, and told me stories of Goron legend. Although, he was more like a grandfather to me, as I still had my own father. Eventually, Darunia was given his own son, and so we grew further and further apart, especially when his tribe were threatened by the King of Evil. I continued to live in the village, sharing a house with Mutoh's son, who grew more and more depressed."

After the last brick was laid, Lamatte wiped the sweat from his forehead. The team of carpenters cheered with relief, as the job was finished. It had taken them four years in all to complete, probably longer if they had not gained access to the Goron Mines. Finally, the Kakariko Shooting Gallery could open for business.

"Nice job, kid." Mutoh sneered. "Now if you want a meal tonight, get to your room."

Lamatte groaned. Even at the age of 16, he was still being treated like a kid. He passed his father drinking milk with the other lazy carpenters, and snarled. His father looked away with embarrassment. Lamatte continued to stride across the village to the house where he slept. It was isolated from the other carpenters, and his only roommate was Grog, Mutoh's son, who wasn't the best of fun.

When he opened the wooden door, he found Grog already sitting in front of the fire, wearing just his underwear again. Lamatte ignored him and went to the sink where he washed his face. He could hear the floorboards creaking as Grog rocked back and forth, but still tried to ignore his presence.

"Good day?" Grog asked bluntly.

Lamatte had no choice but to answer him, or forever suffer the endless questioning. "Yes, fine, thank you." Silence descended once again as Lamatte combed his hair before an invisible mirror.

"I hate my father." Grog said. "I hate my mother too."

Lamatte sighed and continued to comb his hair. The same lines were repeated everyday from the depressed man's mouth. His hate was constantly spewing everywhere, spitting and hissing, but if it didn't escape, Grog would surely explode with rage.

"Do you hate your parents?" Grog asked.

"Maybe." Lamatte growled. "But not as much as you."

"I know you have a father...he's lazy-just like the rest of those idiots. What about your mother?"

Lamatte stopped. He did indeed have a mother: Katherine Faux. He had forgotten all about her. Where was she now? Had she begun a new life? Had she run away after the incident? Had she denounced her son for the murder of his stepfather? Did she even care about him? He broke down over the sink, letting his tears leak into the tin basin.

"You must miss your mother." Grog sighed. "You shouldn't. If you abandoned her, you must have had a reason to do so. Don't look back-only look to the future."

"But what is my future?" Lamatte wailed. "Am I going to be slaving around for your father forever, while my good-for-nothing father sits and drinks, until I drop dead?!"

"At the moment, it seems that way. But you could change that."

"How?"

"Have you ever considered running away? I have. Sometimes. But I've considered suicide many more times."

Lamatte did not have an answer to this. He didn't want to encourage or discourage Grog from elaborating on his many suicide attempts. Instead, he chose to divert the topic: "If you ran away, where would you go?"

"Oh, anywhere possible. As far away from here." he smiled weakly. "Hyrule's a big place. Maybe I could hide in a grotto somewhere and live with the bugs?"

Ignoring the last comment, Lamatte considered the proposal. Maybe he should go and find his mother, whom he had left oh so long ago? But where would he start? He contemplated no more, and immediately grabbed his worn old backpack, and began to store basic equipment within it. Grog spun round on the wooden floor to watch.

"You're actually going to do it?"

"Yeah, why not? Do you want to come with me?"

"No, I just never thought you were a rebellious character. I'll go my own way someday...I've always liked the sound of the Lost Woods..."

Lamatte swung the backpack over his shoulder and opened the door. He was once again reminded of when he ran from his home in Castle Town after murdering Count Faux. Grog's voice suddenly called out: "Do you want something useful to go on your journey?"

He nodded, so Grog held out his hand. In his palm was a rusty hatchet with a smooth wooden handle. Lamatte glared from the tool to the carpenter's son. "How did you get this?"

"From my father, obviously. It may be a little rusty, but it's useful for chopping trees and making firewood."

"Erm...thanks." he said, accepting the gift. "Won't you ever need it?"

"Oh, there's plenty more where that came from." Grog grinned darkly. "Just don't breathe a word of it to my father."

Lamatte nodded to Grog as he stepped outside. The sun was setting over the horizon, colouring all of Kakariko Village a warm orange. He guessed that the carpenters would be waiting for their food in the house opposite, and probably wouldn't notice his disappearance. Lamatte glanced up at Death Mountain and saw a swirling flame circling its summit. He prayed for the Gorons' safety, before departing from the village.

Each step echoed his bold footsteps as the carpenter's son descended the steps into Hyrule Field. He wanted to return to the city where he belonged, to see his mother again, and to find one last chance of becoming big without the need for education. But in a blaze, his dreams were crushed, as a cloud of black smoke erupted from Castle Town.

Lamatte dropped Grog's hatchet, which clanked upon every step until it fell onto the grass. His childhood home; both had been destroyed. And what of his mother? Had she survived? Or had she perished in the overwhelming flames? If so, where would he go?

"As I watched Hyrule's Capital fall to ruin, I thought of one thing: revenge. I was going to find Ganondorf and destroy him for all those who he had murdered in order to gain power. But I had to buy my time. I decided to proceed to the next small settlement in order to find work. There was no way that I was going to serve Mutoh any longer. Yet, my new boss was not much nicer..."

Lamatte edged nervously into Lon Lon Ranch. He was surrounded by the country buildings which were reminiscent of those in Kakariko Village. They formed a narrow path which he marched down towards the farmhouse door. The sun had long since descended, allowing the stars to settle in the sky. He knew he would soon need a place to stay. Courageously, Lamatte knocked twice on the pine wood. Almost immediately, the door flew open to reveal a tall, skinny man with a brown moustache and bushy eyebrows. He retreated slightly at the surprise of Lamatte's height before realising he was still an adolescent.

"Can I help you?" he snarled.

Compared to the fierce Darunia, Lamatte found it easy to talk to this moody man. "Yes, I'm looking for a job."

The man's eyes ignited at the proposal. "Ah, yes, please come inside."

The house smelt of damp and hay, which was what was expected at a ranch. Despite this, a stove, a dining table and a bed had been set up. There was also a staircase leading to a second floor. It was impressive for such a small space.

"My name is Ingo. I'm the owner of this ranch." The man held out his hand in greeting. Lamatte's stared at his dirty fingernails and muddy palms before politely shaking it. "And you are?"

"Lamatte." he said. "I'm the son of Shiro, the carpenter."

"A carpenter, eh?" Ingo grinned. "You must be a good labourer then?"

"Yes, but I can also do finance-"

Ingo wasn't interested. He had already pulled out a dining chair and invited Lamatte to sit. Then, he poured a teapot and they sat down for tea. Lamatte saw movement from upstairs. There stood a pretty girl wearing a yellow night gown. She had ginger hair and blue eyes that gazed down at the scene.

"Malon!" Ingo snapped as he noticed her presence. "Get to bed! I'm trying to conduct a job interview!"

Malon quickly disappeared behind a door as Ingo returned to Lamatte. "I'll hire you, but here are the rules: you work from 6am til 6pm, with no slacking. Meals are at 5am and 7pm, and you can sleep here on the floor. As for pay, I should think that food and shelter would be enough to sustain you, but just in case, you earn 5 Rupees a week. So, are you still interested?"

Lamatte considered once more. He had been given regular meals and similar hours when he had worked for Mutoh, and the pay was 10 Rupees a week. Plus, the hours were very flexible, as nobody did much work. But here was going to be much different. He was going to sustain himself without a mother or father, and the money could be saved or spent on whatever he liked, rather than tools or clothes.

"I accept." he said.

Ingo beamed and held out his hand once more. "Lamatte, you are now hired! Just fetch some hay from the barn and you've got yourself a bed!"

"So I slept on a bed of straw like an unwanted animal, every night for two years. I'm certain that the horses in the Stable had a better bed than me." Lamatte laughed heartily despite the circumstances. "But it wasn't all hard work at the ranch. Me and Malon sometimes played practical jokes on Ingo, and they were hilarious...but they usually ended up in severe punishment. He used to threaten to deduct our wages (although that seemed impossible) and sometimes starved us."

"WAKE UP!" boomed Ingo, leaning intimidatingly over Lamatte's straw bed.

The yawning giant rubbed his eyes and glanced out of the window to the night sky. "Is it 6am already?"

"No, slacker, it's 5am! That means breakfast!" he threw a bundle of yellow clothing over his apprentice. "Now get up and change into your overalls, Malon's preparing cereal. MALON!"

Malon emerged from a side door holding a tray with three bowls perched on it. Today, she was wearing a cute little country cream dress with a dirty apron. Her eyes were drawn and her hair looked awful.

"Speed up, girl, you're tending to the horses in half an hour!" Ingo snapped. "Put the food on the table!"

She hurried over to the table and placed the tray on the surface, smiling slightly at Lamatte. He smiled shyly back before Malon returned to what was presumably the kitchen. He watched her for a while, until Ingo slapped him suddenly across the face.

"And you can stop eyeing her! Get changed upstairs, I have a special job for you today! Meet me in the stable after breakfast!"

Lamatte rubbed his sore cheek and glared at Ingo with distaste. The boss strolled over to the table and began to munch on his cereal. If only Darunia were here, then he wouldn't be looking so smug.

Lamatte climbed the stairs with his overalls in his arms, and opened the door. Inside, he was surprised to find a cosy little bedroom. Inside, there was a dresser, two separate beds and some pots. Pots... He wondered what his stepfather would think of him for working on a ranch. What would his real father think?

He strolled over and began to undress. Then, he noticed something behind the pots. Lamatte gently pushed them aside and saw a drawing.

It depicted a young girl with gorgeous red hair, which he immediately identified as Malon. Here, she was just a child, with a playful smile. A giant, hairy arm was hugging her, and belonged to a large man with a hefty black moustache. Although he was bald, fat and hairy, his smile somewhat resembled Malon's. Lamatte suddenly realised that this must be her father. Where was he now? Why had he not come to rescue her from this antagonising bully who she called boss? He suddenly had the feeling that all fathers were failures.

Quickly changing into his hideous yellow overalls, Lamatte proceeded to the stable. As soon as the damp, wooden door creaked open, the stink of rotting wood and manure-soaked hay overwhelmed him. Ingo was standing in the centre of the room, holding a shovel in one hand, and a large bucket in the other. Lamatte approached him with caution.

"Welcome to your first job, which I reserved especially for you." her declared, and held out both items: "This is a shovel, and this is a bucket. I'm sure you've realised by now what you'll be doing in here."

"You want me to clean up manure?!" Lamatte snarled, horrified at the thought.

"Well, you're not as stupid as you look." Ingo laughed coldly. "When the bucket is full, pour it outside on the soil so we can grow some pretty flowers. Then wash the stables out with clean water from the pond. I'm sure it'll take you all day, so be back in the farmhouse by 7pm for supper."

Ingo marched out and slammed the door behind him, leaving his apprentice surrounded by the stench of horse manure. Lamatte's hatred for his boss was boiling in his blood as he began to shovel the horrendous pile back and forth.

At exactly 7pm, Lamatte dragged himself towards the farmhouse. His bright yellow overalls had turned a nasty brown, and sweat was dripping from his hair. He kicked the door open and saw a rich, creamy soup waiting for him on the table, accompanied by a loaf of freshly baked bread. Compared to the meals served in Kakariko Village, this was luxury.

He dashed forward, eager for the taste of mushrooms and cuccos, but no sooner had he seated himself upon the tiny wooden stool, did a fist grab his overalls and pull him from his seat.

"You're _filthy_!" Ingo exclaimed. "How dare you think that you could enter this house wearing these! Go and change upstairs!"

Frustrated and annoyed with the concept of neglecting a meal, Lamatte stomped up the wooden stairs to the bedroom. He slammed the door and kicked off his boots. Then, he heard a slight cough from the corner, which caused him to jolt in terror. Malon was standing behind the door looking embarrassed. Lamatte felt fortunate not to have stripped off in her presence.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "Did I open the door on you?"

"No, I was just leaving." But Malon did not leave. The two stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments. Lamatte realised that this was the first time he had spoken to a girl his own age.

"I noticed that you were looking at my drawings." she said finally.

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

"-No, don't apologise, it's okay." she smiled, and went to go and fetch them herself. "It's me and my father. He used to run this ranch. Ingo always used to call him a lazy good-for-nothing. Well, now he's the boss of the ranch. All thanks to King Ganondorf."

For a moment, Lamatte thought he saw a tear slip down her cheek, but it was wiped with her hands instantly. "I don't know where my father is...but I wish he was here."

Malon replaced the drawing and left the room. Lamatte empathised with her-he knew what it felt like to miss a father, who he knew was a lazy good-for-nothing. He removed his overalls and changed into his original grey tunic, before descending the stairs once more, feeling much less hateful.

"It was Malon who first taught me how to feel emotion, and how to look to the future, and not to stay angry or upset..." Lamatte trailed off. "I guess I need her now... In return, I taught Malon how to have fun." Lamatte winked, suddenly looking mischievous. "We were tired of labouring for 12 hours every day, and we needed to let go. I can still remember the first ever prank we pulled on Ingo..."

The sun was setting over Lon Lon ranch, and Lamatte was sitting with Malon on the roof of the farmhouse. However, this was no romantic meeting.

"What if the horses get scared?" Malon asked, frightened.

"They're locked up safely in the stables." Lamatte reassured her. "I should know, I put them there."

"Lamatte, I don't want to do this." she mumbled, but Lamatte continued to turn the key.

"Relax, Malon, the worst he can do is deduct are wages. The starving doesn't really affect me." he said casually. "Anyway, that bastard deserves it."

Suddenly, the door of the farmhouse clicked open. Ingo emerged looking ruthlessly smug. Malon held her breath and began a nervous sweat. Lamatte twisted the key once more and the last Bombchu was prepared. Ingo hesitated, as though he felt disturbance in the tranquil country air, but eventually continued towards the stable.

"Okay, now." Lamatte commanded.

Malon inhaled and pushed the first Bombchu over the side. It whirred and whizzed violently as it scurried over the rooftop. It scuttled down the wall and straight towards Ingo. Before he had a chance to discover what was making the noise, the machine exploded at his feet, causing him to topple over.

Lamatte grinned as he pushed another over the edge. One by one, Ingo watched helplessly as a further four exploding mice cascaded down the wall. He frantically pulled at the doorknob to seek shelter in the stable, but the Bombchus won the race. Malon chuckled slightly, followed by Lamatte, and before long, they were both howling at the misfortune of their boss, who sat smoking by the door.

"You little rats!" he yelled, attempting to stand up. "For this, you shan't receive a penny from me this week!"

"I don't care!" laughed Lamatte, leaping onto the tree which he had used to climb.

"Me neither!" Malon said rebelliously, as she followed Lamatte into the farmhouse. Ingo growled and stood up, but the door slammed shut in his face.

"Absolutely no wage this week!" Ingo roared. "And that's not all! For forcing me to sleep with the stinking horses, you are hereby banished from this house for tonight! And that's for both of you!"

Lamatte and Malon stood looking glum, with their hands behind their back, before their furious boss. For Lamatte, it was the first time that he had been truly punished, even after the numerous beatings he would receive as a child. He glanced sideways at Malon, but she was too ashamed to look him in the eye.

"Now, you'd better save yourselves a spot beside the cows, cos you'll be getting up the same time tomorrow! Now, have a nice sleep!"

He slammed the door of the farmhouse shut, leaving both teens outside in the serene twilight. As the bees retreated to the hives, and the birds fluttered back to the nest, Lamatte and Malon were left wondering what to do.

"I told you, we should never have done it!" Malon sniffed.

"Oh for the Gods' sake, Malon, the guy's a bastard!" Lamatte snorted, but then saw how upset she truly was, and softened up a little. "Okay, maybe locking him out the house was a little too much, but he deserved the Bomchus. Now let's find somewhere to sleep."

"Okay." she sniffed again, but this time wearing a smile. "I'll sleep in the stable; you can go to the milk house."

"I was thinking of doing a little stargazing." he winked. "It's a clear night, and we could climb up onto the roof again." He glanced upwards at the sky, where stars were beginning to appear one by one as the red glare of the sun faded. He held out his hand. "What do you say?"

Malon gazed at his hand, and hesitated before taking it. "Let's go!"

Together, they climbed the tree and hopped onto the shiny red roof, without caring whether or not Ingo could here them. Once there, they lay down side by side and gazed upwards at the sparkling constellations. Lamatte raised his index finger and began to identify them.

"There's the Big Dipper-you can tell, because of the pole star-and that's Orion, because of the triple-star belt."

"How do you know so much about the night sky?" Malon asked, amazed.

"I used to visit Death Mountain summit with Darunia, the Goron Leader. He taught me how to see constellations, and how they all foretold an event. But to Gorons, most of them meant festivity or disaster."

"You...you knew the Gorons?!"

"Yes, for a little while. What's your zodiac sign?" he asked, avoiding the subject entirely.

"Well, I was born in January...Dad always said I was a Capricorn."

"I'm a Libra. Look, there's Libra." Lamatte said, excitedly indicating the glowing constellation. "It's only visible during September and October."

"Lamatte, that means it's nearly your birthday!" Malon gasped.

Lamatte blushed slightly. "Well, I don't mind. I doubt I'll be getting any gifts from Ingo."

"Well, I don't care." Malon insisted, and leaned over to give him a kiss upon the cheek. He blushed instantly, and rubbed his facial hair, which felt slightly wet. "Happy Birthday, Lamatte!" she finished, and turned over on her side to sleep. Lamatte smiled and did the same.

Lamatte and Ingo sat at opposite ends of the table. As Lamatte munched on his cereal, Ingo gave him cold, callous glares. Today, he was dressed in a red vest, with a wide, white ruff around his neck. His moustache was combed into a tight curl, but his eyebrows remained bushy and crumpled into a frown.

After finishing his own breakfast, he stood up and left the table, tightening his ruff as he left the building. Lamatte also finished, and collected both bowls to take to Malon, who was cleaning in the kitchen. She jumped, startled, as he opened the door, but relaxed when she saw his face.

"Why is he all dressed up like that?" he asked, as he placed the bowls on the draining board.

Malon picked one up and began to scrub at it. "Today's the day that King Ganondorf himself visits the ranch. He has to look his best if he's going to impress the King. Apparently, he's come to choose a new horse, since his Gerudo Stallion died."

"The King? As in, the King who crushed Castle Town?! The King who could have killed both our parents?!"

"Lamatte, we have to be on our best behaviour, especially for the King. No pranks, no arguing, just good, hard work." she sighed, and removed her apron. "I'm going to introduce King Ganondorf to our many breeds. That should give you enough time to clean up the stables."

She left the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. Lamatte groaned and went upstairs to change into his overalls.

The sun was at the highest point in the sky, an intense burning that caused the pond to simmer slightly. Malon stood, with combed silky red hair, hyperventilating in the horse enclosure, whilst stroking a sandy buckskin for comfort. Ingo was patrolling back and forth, continuously tapping at his watch and straightening his ruff impatiently. Meanwhile, Lamatte stood casually leaning against the wall of the stable, which he had not bothered to clean since breakfast. Instead, he waited with the rest for the arrival of the King of Evil.

Then, it happened. First came the gentle trotting sound of a foreign horse. Ingo stopped strolling and stood to attention. The horse slowly trotted into view: a magnificent Meadow White horse, with a dashing blonde mane. However, its face was covered by a heavy black helmet, so only its eyes were visible. On its back was a heavy black suit of armour, with boots of iron that kicked into the side of the horse's delicate body. At the top of the armour was another black helmet. It opened up to reveal a hideous green face with golden eyes. They glared sharply at the boss, who swallowed nervously and approached with caution.

"Good day, your majesty!" Ingo quivered, and bowed low to the muddy ground. "What a wonderful day it is to be in the presence of such a fine king!"

"If I am such a fine king, then show me your finest horses." the King said shortly.

Ingo coughed in order to deepen his tone of voice. "Of course, your majesty. Please follow me to the enclosure."

Lamatte watched with delight as Ingo nervously led Ganondorf and his horse towards Malon. As Ganondorf passed the stable, he caught Lamatte's eyes and snarled. Lamatte snarled back, but the King simply ignored him.

As the armoured Meadow White approached, Malon straightened the creases in her dress and quickly brushed her hair before standing firmly with her hands behind her back. The King dismounted his horse and removed his helmet, allowing dark red hair to absorb the sunlight.

"Good day, your majesty!" she bowed low. "Welcome to Lon Lon Ranch!"

Ganondorf carried his helmet under his right arm, and shoved Malon out of his way with his left. He proceeded towards the first horse; a solid grey with a solemn face. Ganondorf took one look and gave it a snarl of distaste and disgust. He then progressed to a brown Palomino, which he examined closely.

"No, too...common..." he said.

Ingo gritted his teeth, and Malon held her breath. Ganondorf strolled ominously towards a flaxen horse with a white mane: Epona, Malon's most treasured and invaluable pony. He observed its movements and behaviour as Malon bit her lip. Lamatte watched closely as the King approached Ingo.

"It needs a lot more training," he said. "but I'll take this one."

Lamatte saw the tears break in Malon's eyes, but still she remained still and silent. Ingo grinned hideously and nodded vigorously. "Of course, your majesty! Here at Lon Lon Ranch, we will work day and night to train this horse for our King!"

He held his hand out to confirm the deal, but Ganondorf simply stared coldly at him. "Well, you'd better get to work. I have plans that need taking into action."

He strolled away and replaced the helmet back on his head, and slammed the shutter. The entire ranch gazed in awe as the King mounted the Meadow White horse and galloped away to return to his castle. He passed the adolescent farm worker in the yellow overalls once more, before leaving the ranch; and Lamatte suddenly had an idea.

"Lamatte, that's outrageous!" shrieked Malon when she heard his idea. "You want to rob from the King of Hyrule! We can't! We'll be executed, or even worse, sacked!"

"For the Goddess' sake, Malon!" he hissed. "I'm only talking about a horse! He's going to get a new one anyway. What difference will it make?"

"Well why can't you wait until he brings it back to the ranch?" she pleaded.

"Because once it comes here, the animal will live a life of poverty and abuse. And my plan goes further than that. I was to run away."

"Lamatte, you can't run away!" Malon protested. "Where would you go?"

"To find my father." he said confidently. "I ran away from him once, and I regret it. Working for the carpenters wasn't that bad after all."

"What? So you're going to leave me with Ingo?"

"No, of course not! I want you to come with me!" Lamatte smiled sweetly at her and her heart melted. "We're going to find your father, and then we can leave the country together!"

"Leave the country?! Are you mad?!"

"No. You have to trust me on this. Do you trust me?"

His crystal blue eyes met her chestnut brown ones. She wanted to look away but couldn't. Eventually, Malon nodded. "What do we have to do?"

"We have to wait; until Ganondorf visits. When he dismounts, offer to wash his horse. We then lead the Meadow White away into the stable. We grab our things and run."

"And what if it doesn't work?" she asked, timidly.

"Then we both have to face the King of Evil."

Lamatte stared into the distance, to the faraway Kakariko Village. Maybe his father was still living there, along with the other carpenters? Maybe Talon had even evacuated there when Castle Town had been attacked? The moon had now risen into the winter sky, and gentle snowflakes were falling onto the tin roof where they sat. After staring side by side for a while, Lamatte grew cold and climbed down without saying a word.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky, yet there was still a chill in the air which turned the soft soil to barren gravel. Malon stood, with combed silky red hair, trying to retain herself, whilst stroking Epona, the chosen one, for comfort. Ingo was patrolling back and forth, continuously tapping at his watch and straightening his ruff impatiently. Meanwhile, Lamatte stood stiffly beside the gate to the stable. His hair had been combed by Malon to the best of her ability, and although he stood tall and proud, he shivered occasionally.

Around noon, there came the harsh sound of iron horseshoes on the hard ground. The familiar Meadow White came into view, wearing the same heavy helmet over its face and carrying its unquestionable master. Ingo stopped strolling and stood to attention as the suit of black armour approached, baring hollow black eyes. Malon inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. Lamatte proudly presented his bright yellow overalls whilst still wearing a serious frown. Ganondorf, the King of Evil, had arrived.

"Good day, your majesty!" Ingo greeted him as the horse came closer, but before he could bow, the King dismounted and pushed the feeble farm worker aside.

He marched directly towards the enclosure, and removed his helmet at the same time. "Show me the horse." Ganondorf said bluntly.

Malon exhaled, and turned to Epona. She was sporting a royal blue saddle, fit for her future master, and gleaming new horseshoes for the occasion. Epona's eyes begged not to be moved, and Malon understood, but she unwillingly seized the reigns. Together, they stepped towards the King, and Malon bowed low.

"Good day, your majesty!" she bowed low. "Welcome to Lon Lon Ranch! We have been carefully raising the horse you have chosen, and soon, she will become a strong steed!"

"Give me the reigns." he said.

Malon stood silent, slightly taken aback. Ganondorf outstretched his hand, awaiting the reigns. She cautiously placed them into his grip, and he snatched them immediately. He pulled tight, but Epona refused to look up. He tugged harder, and she whinnied aggressively.

"It won't obey me!" Ganondorf roared. "Have you not taught this horse obedience?!"

Ingo ran forward to calm his rage. "Your majesty, I apologise!" he cried. "If this is not the horse for you, then we can always-"

"I want _this_ horse." the King boomed, persisting to tug on the reigns, causing Epona to yelp in distress. Malon was clearly in emotionally agony, and Lamatte joined the discussion.

"Do not worry, your majesty." he said politely. "We can train this horse to suit all your needs. But first, would you like us to wash and feed your other horse?" He gestured towards the innocent white horse, which was digging at the soil with its hoof. The King watched it and looked thoughtful.

"Alright then. That will give me enough time to take this horse for a ride." he turned once again to Epona, whose nostrils were flaring. Lamatte nodded to Malon, and she stroked Epona's white mane affectionately for a final time.

"She's all yours, your majesty." she said, and strolled towards the stable without even glancing at the yellow overalls, which she wandered straight past. Lamatte watched as Ingo repetitively offered to help to King onto his new horse. He then turned to the Meadow White and took its reigns. It glanced up through the black helmet and revealed its curious eyes. Lamatte stroked its mane and escorted it through the stable gate. After he was certain that Ganondorf was still racing around the horse track, he gently closed the door.

"Are you ready?" he whispered to Malon.

"I think so." she sighed, and removed her apron. "Do you know where we're going to go yet?"

"Yes. I think we should flee to Kakariko Village. Hopefully, there will be somebody who remembers me and will offer us a place to sleep. We might even find our fathers."

She did not reply and instead took a pouch in exchange for her apron. It contained little more than a bottle of milk and the drawing of her and Talon. Malon wore it around her waist and nodded to Lamatte.

"Let's go."

Lamatte nodded in reply, and mounted the horse. It did not struggle or whine, but continued to look at the floor. Lamatte felt pitiful, and began to stroke its mane. The horse still did not raise its head.

"Come on, Malon!" he called from his perch.

But Malon was transfixed on the stable door. Although she could not see much, she could hear the continuous whinnies of Epona as she galloped endlessly around the track. She could also hear Ganondorf's fierce yell, demanding to go faster. She closed her eyes and a tear filtered through. Malon then turned to Lamatte.

"I'm sorry." she said. "I can't go."

"Why?"

"I can't leave Epona with that horrid fiend. Who knows what will happen to her?"

"But you're happy to let this horse return to the prison it suffers in, under the fist of the King of Evil? We can't take Epona with us. Ingo has her under firm guard, and Ganondorf will not let her get away. Malon, you have to choose: Do you want to stay here and care for Epona, serving Ingo for the rest of your life? Or do you want to come with me and find your father?"

She hesitated. It was a choice that would surely change her future. It was also one that she had to make alone. Lamatte smiled at her, and held his hand. Malon was still considering the opportunity, when the stable was forced open and Ingo bowed low for Ganondorf's entrance.

"Your majesty, here is your steed, groomed to the highest standard." The boss glanced up and shrieked in horror. Ganondorf was enraged.

"Get off my horse!" he boomed.

"Malon, get on, quickly!" Lamatte yelled, but Malon was petrified, and would not move.

"Lamatte, get down here now!" Ingo cried. Lamatte's eyes narrowed as he glared at the Evil King.

Without any further hesitation, he kicked his foot into the horse, which stood to attention and dashed forwards. Ingo yelped and leapt aside. Ganondorf remained standing, and held out his arm. Slowly, a ball of darkness formed in his palms. Lamatte would not stop. The black headed horse charged towards the King of Evil, and knocked him straight over.

Once outside, Lamatte glanced over his shoulder to see Malon, who had come to wave him off. She looked sombre, but accepted that she could not chase him as she raised her arm. Lamatte nodded to her as the horse turned the corner and galloped valiantly out of the ranch.

The horse continued to sprint across the barren Hyrule Field, without resting. A gale was billowing around them, and the sun was descending in the sky within minutes. Lamatte's fingers grew cold on the reigns, and wearing nothing but his bright yellow overalls, he shivered violently as his lips turned blue. He did not know where he was going, or if he was going to live. He just wanted to escape Ganondorf's wrath.

The ground below the Meadow White's hooves turned from frozen blades of grass to gravel-like sand. A fog fell around them like a veil, and all Lamatte could see were a few tall rocks. Now cautious without vision, the horse began to trot and its hooves clopped along a wooden surface. As the fog began to fade, Lamatte noticed a white fabricated structure ahead of him.

Suddenly, the horse halted, so violently that Lamatte was thrown back, still gripping the reigns. Below him, he could hear rushing water. He quickly realised that he and the horse were standing on the edge of a deep gorge.

The wind was still blowing on his pale face. The horse turned its head for some form of instruction. Ahead, the white tent was still visible, shining like a beacon of safety. Lamatte knew that it was time to consider his courage.

Pulling on the reigns, he ordered his horse to reverse while he kept his eyes on the tent. A few yards back, the horse stopped. Lamatte kicked sharply and the horse ran; closer and closer towards the gorge until the hooves left the ground. There was a moment of suspense as Lamatte looked down at the terrifying gorge below them, until the hooves touched the ground once more. They had made it.

Lamatte patted its mane in gratitude, but the horse remained silent. He leaned into its ear and whispered sweetly.

"I don't know who you are, but I'm with you." he smiled. "You need a name: one that makes you sound strong and brave like me. How about...Aurarius?"

The horse did not reply but hung his head. Lamatte patted it once more and smiled, before dismounting and removing its terrible iron mask. Aurarius's eyes glanced upwards and shimmered in the twilight. Lamatte then turned to the tent behind them. It had a warm orange glow and the aroma of piping hot soup from the entrance which welcomed their arrival.

He pulled back the cloth and entered. Firstly, he sniffed the air, and felt a surge of familiarity and homeliness. Then, when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by five faces.

"Lamatte?" said a familiar voice. In the corner, a man stood up form his seat, spilling his scalding soup onto the floor. Lamatte's father rushed over and hugged him tightly.

"Father!" Lamatte cheered. He returned the hug and then let go to admire Shiro's appearance. His face looked lined and pale, while his brown moustache had grown out of place. As Lamatte stared at his father's face, Shiro's eyes examined his son. He saw a tall, muscular man with faint blonde stubble. Time had transformed both of them, and they were both baffled.

"Okay, enough with this heartwarming reunion." said a familiar careless voice. Mutoh stood up and stroked his white moustache. He approached Lamatte in an attempt to confront him, but suddenly realised that the boy he once bullied was now towering over him, and shrunk back in embarrassment.

"Right, young man." he said in a much more fatherly tone. "I presume you came here looking for a home. Well, you can stay the night if you need to. But only if you help us with this project."

"What project?" Lamatte frowned.

"Being such an intelligent man as yourself, I'm sure you will have noticed the lack of bridge outside." explained Mutoh politely. "Well, since things got nasty in Kakariko Village, we were sent here, in order to fix up a new one."

"Where did you go? Where did you sleep?" Shiro interrupted impatiently. "Are you going to stay here? If you do, you can have my bed! You can have as much food as you want!"

"He will do no such thing!" Mutoh snapped. "I'm still the boss here, you know! I provide the food and the shelter!" He turned the Lamatte and his smile returned. "I'll arrange suitable accommodation for you. So, are you with us?"

A nervous hand reached out for approval. Lamatte glanced down with a neutral expression. The carpenters held their breath. The hand was shaken. Mutoh grinned falsely as Lamatte rejoined the team. Shiro applauded proudly and returned to collect some more soup. Lamatte quickly released his grip from Mutoh's hand and selected a seat beside Sabooro and Ichiro.

"So I found myself a part of the carpenters once again, beside my father and under Mutoh's rule." Lamatte sighed. "But things didn't quite work out that way. I soon realised why my father was so pleased to see me, and just how he was going to use me."

It was a serene night in Gerudo Valley. The waterfall glistened in the moonlight and insects chirped. However, the bridge was far from being completed.

Lamatte was tending to Aurarius behind an array of sandstone rocks, where a trough had been laid for the horse to drink. Aurarius was still adjusting to the surreal surroundings, but as the winter thawed, so did his coldness towards Lamatte.

"You know, it's not so bad here." said Lamatte, stroking his mane. "It's better than the ranch, and Mutoh's much nicer now."

He continued to tend to Aurarius in the stillness when the silence was broken by a sharp hiss. Lamatte was startled, and spun round. Shiro was stood behind one of the rocks, beckoning his son closer.

"What do you want?" Lamatte asked his father.

"We want to talk to you." Shiro whispered.

"Who's we?" he frowned.

"Come inside the tent, I'll explain more."

His father led him to the white structure, and pulled back the door. Inside, the other three carpenters were gathered around the fire, each holding a bottle of milk. Lamatte scanned the room.

"Where's Mutoh?"

"The boss has gone to Kakariko for supplies." Sabooro explained. "Now, are you going to help us or what?"

"Help you with what?!" Lamatte snapped.

The carpenters jumped back in surprise. Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lamatte...I need to know where you went when you left Kakariko."

"If you must know...I went to Lon Lon Ranch." he confessed. "I worked there for about two years...and it was horrible."

"What's the wage like?" Ichiro interrupted. The others leaned closer.

Lamatte stopped, a little taken aback. "Well...about 5 Rupees per week...if it doesn't get deducted."

"Are the animals friendly?" Jiro piped.

"Erm...they're tame...what's this about?"

"We're just interested Lamatte..." Shiro said kindly.

"Oh, just tell him straight, Shiro." Sabooro groaned.

Lamatte turned to his father, who could not look him in the eye. "We...we want to leave." he said. "We want to escape Mutoh's grip. We want to live a better life, with better wages and better healthcare. We don't want to stay carpenters for the rest of our lives."

"So that's why you were asking about the ranch?"

Shiro nodded. Lamatte was speechless.

"Did you get that horse of yours from the ranch?" Jiro asked.

"We could really use a horse like that...to cross the gorge." Sabooro nodded.

"If we connect a caravan to the back, it could carry us all to Lon Lon Ranch." Ichiro pondered.

"You can't have my horse!" Lamatte yelled. "You can't go to Lon Lon Ranch! You need to stay here with me!"

"So, it's okay for you to leave when life gets tough...but when we want to leave, you forbid us?" Sabooro hissed.

"I can't go back there!" Lamatte explained. "I've done a terrible thing. If I go back, I'll be executed by the King himself."

There was a sympathetic silence. A few of the carpenters took a sip of their milk. Shiro would still not look at his son.

"Well, guys." Sabooro concluded. "It looks like we're resorting to Plan B."

"What's Plan B?" Lamatte asked.

"To join the Gerudo bandits and live a life of thievery and freedom." Ichiro explained.

"What? Are you mad?" Lamatte cried. "The Gerudo are bloodthirsty thieves! You'll be slaughtered!"

"The life of the Gerudo is better than that of a carpenter." said Jiro.

"Will you come with us?" Shiro asked his son. The carpenters gazed at him hopefully. Lamatte looked at his father in utter disgust.

"I used to think you were a hero...a god...even a parent..." Lamatte sneered. "But you can't be any of those things. You're just a slimy rat who runs away from his responsibilities."

Shiro gazed at his son for a while, before turning to his team of carpenters. "Okay guys. Let's go."

The carpenters gathered their things from around the tent, and left it one by one. As they passed Lamatte, they patted him on the back, as though he was the unlucky one. Finally, his father passed him, without saying another word. Lamatte was left alone in the tent, with only the crackling of the fire. Once again, his world had come crashing down, and the only person left was himself. No mother, no father.

Suddenly, Mutoh came clambering into the tent in a panic, only to find the lonely outsider. He brought himself to calm and asked the man politely. "Where are my carpenters?"

"They're gone." he said simply, and wandered outside to go and tend to his horse.

"I stayed with Mutoh until the end; working on the bridge during the day, sleeping during the night. Since my father left, there was only three of us: Mutoh, Aurarius and I. We weren't much of a team, and Mutoh was either frustrated or depressed most of the time. I once asked him where Grog was, his son. He didn't answer. Then I realised that he must have gone to follow his dream of running away."

"But all hope was not lost! In time, a boy garbed in green arrived, and infiltrated the Gerudo's Fortress, where my father and the carpenters had been held captive. He rescued them and they returned safely. Mutoh hired them once again and the bridge was completed. But still, I refused to speak to any of them."

"Before long, the news arrived that the King of Evil, Ganondorf has been slayed by the boy in green. It was a terrific day. All of Hyrule united at Lon Lon Ranch, even the Gerudo. I found Malon and Epona still safe at the ranch. Her father had returned, and Ingo had been demoted. All was well."

The fire crackled many different colours. The stars were glinting down upon the procession of joyful dancing and cheering. Lamatte was sat with Malon near the stable, while beside them, Epona and Aurarius nuzzled each other's snouts. Talon appeared from the farm house and approached them.

"Hey there, son!" he said as he approached the Lamatte. "You must be the infamous Lamatte! Malon has told me all about you!"

Lamatte laughed and Malon blushed.

"That was a brave thing you did," Talon admired. "Running from the ranch on your own. However did you survive?"

"Well, I wasn't alone." said Lamatte, and gestured to Aurarius. "This horse accompanied me all the way."

"He's certainly warmed up since we last met." smiled Malon, and stroked his mane. "You must be a very good carer to him."

"Anyway, Lamatte. I notice that you're still wearing those horrible yellow overalls. I have something which you might like."

From behind his back, Talon removed a folded piece of grey cloth, and offered it to him. Lamatte took it and unfolded it gently. It was a tunic; the same tunic which he had worn once. But now, it had the image of a galloping horse sewn into it with golden thread.

"Thank you!" said Lamatte, impressed.

"Oh don't thank me," said Talon. "Thank Malon. Ever since you left, she's been sewing into it every night."

Malon went as red as her hair. Lamatte smiled and hugged her tightly. Talon sensed the awkwardness and vanished into the farmhouse. When they had finished, they heard approaching footsteps. A tall man in a brown tunic and a silver moustache stood boldly before them, accompanied by a woman with blonde hair, who was clutching his arm. She seemed familiar to Lamatte.

"Are you the gentleman who goes by the name of Lamatte?" he asked politely. Lamatte nodded anxiously.

"Oh, don't feel intimidated by my appearance, young chap!" he chortled. "My name is Mylo. Sergeant Mylo. I heard from this woman about how you challenged the King of Evil himself. She is a very proud mother."

Suddenly, the realisation hit him. "Mother?!"

The woman beside Mylo nodded. She looked peaceful and proud of what her son had achieved. Although they did not reach out to hug each other, there was a warm bond between them which required no words.

"Such courage must be rewarded," Mylo continued. "which is why I would like to grant you place at the Royal Hylian Forces."

At the words, Lamatte froze, and stood speechless.

"Now usually, cadets would have to progress through extensive training in order to become honorary recruits, but as the forces have diminished since Ganondorf's reign, we must recruit fast. So how about it?"

Lamatte remained silent, until Malon nudged him. "Say yes, you buffoon!" His mother beamed down at him. Lamatte obeyed and nodded his head rapidly.

Sergeant Mylo chortled again and held out his hand. "Welcome to the Royal Hylian Forces, Recruit Lamatte."

"And so I became a member of the Royal Hylian Forces. I went with Aurarius to a prosperous future of knighthood, where I befriended the Princess, Zelda. I was then appointed to her majesty's Resistance. It was an exclusive group for only the worthiest of warriors. Mylo led the Resistance, and I met many other members: Davina; the royal maid, Edgar; the royal tutor, Louise; the royal doctor and Ningan..."

There was a pause. The clock ticked. Lamatte looked distant, and his eyes were glazed. Wickson was unsure what to do. He knew that Ningan was in town...but did Lamatte know? Was it a good idea to reunite them both? Ningan didn't seem to care much for the Resistance any more...yet Lamatte obviously cared a lot.

"This...Ningan." Wickson began. "Did he ever travel with you?"

"Yes..." said Lamatte, snapping awake. "Why?"

"Well...I was just talking to a guy last night...he said he was a member of a 'Resistance'. Could it possibly be the same guy?"

"You mean Ningan's in Clock Town?!" Lamatte cried. "Where?!"

"He said he was staying somewhere overnight...not here though."

"Tell me where he is!" said Lamatte, gripping Wickson's shoulders.

"I don't know where he is!" he protested, and pushed the filthy fists of his shoulders. "All I know is that he agreed to attend the carnival with me tonight."

"_Tomorrow_?!" Lamatte cried. "The carnival's _tomorrow_? I must see him again! We need to talk!"

"Well then, get yourself cleaned up and meet me in the Western Square at 11pm."

Lamatte's misty eyes were illuminated once more, and he beamed. Suddenly, he reached across the table and hugged Wickson tightly, so he almost suffocated. Wickson reluctantly hugged him back and tried to avoid catching some of Lamatte's gruel stains.

"I'd better go and wash this in the Laundry Pool." he said excitedly. "I might even see Ningan there!"

When Wickson arrived at exactly 11 o'clock, Lamatte was waiting in the Western Square. His grin was illuminated by the blazing lanterns; his clothes had been washed, and he looked much more presentable, with a pair of riding gloves and boots. There were many banners and a pair of dancers, who waved their arms and pirouetted to the music. The town was alive.

"Wow, this carnival is buzzing!" he said as he shook Wickson's hand vigorously. "If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have stepped out of the inn!"

Together they sat down on a nearby bench and watched the carnival take place. Around them, people were laughing, dancing and singing to the beat of the town. Others would walk around offering beverages, in which both men kindly accepted. However, there was still no sign of Ningan.

"I don't think he's coming..." said Lamatte quietly, though he did not seem disappointed.

Wickson sighed. "You know, I didn't think Ningan was an unreliable person. Maybe he's just having fun at the carnival elsewhere?"

"Or maybe he's left Termina already."

There was a short silence, which ended abruptly with the chime of the Clock Tower. It was nearly midnight, where the Clock Tower would open and the fireworks would commence. Wickson stood up.

"I don't care where Ningan is at the moment." he said. "All I want to do is have fun. That is what I came here for after all."

Lamatte laughed. "I came here to gamble all my money on the Carnival Lottery. Well, I've succeeded in wasting it all..."

Wickson looked down on the Commanding Knight of the Royal Hylian Forces, key member of the Royal Resistance and son of Shiro, the carpenter, and Katherine, his wife. Instead of feeling pity, Wickson felt a sort of respect for a man who had achieved so much and lost it all so quickly.

"Lamatte, your life isn't over, you know." he said. "Just because you lost your bed in a rundown inn and wasted all your money to an impossible game, it doesn't mean you can't stay with me until you get back on your feet."

"That's a very kind offer, Wickson," he smiled. "but since I met you, I have a new purpose. Rather than sponging off others and being a gambling addict, I'm going to get a job and make life on my own."

"So where are you going to go?" Wickson asked, concerned.

"Far away from Termina. Far away from temptation. I will go and collect my horse from Milk Road...I left it to two guys called Gorman. From there, I'll ride: to the future."

"I'm happy for you." he smiled. "But just in case you need a helping hand..." Wickson reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny red card. "...this is a Resort Card. It belongs to my parents: they own a chain of hotels across the world. If you have this, they'll let you stay for free."

The glossy surface glinted in Lamatte's eyes, and he carefully took it from Wickson's grip. "Thank you... Thank you very much!"

"It's fine," he said. "remember to pop by in any of the hotels-you might see me there!"

The final chime of the Clock echoed through the town. Every face turned to the centre of the town. The gigantic sphere fell downwards and there was a loud squealing sound. Fireworks of many different colours erupted from the Clock Tower, and the celebration of Time commenced. Wickson applauded with delight, and turned to his right. But Lamatte had vanished.


End file.
